An emaciated canary, singing like Frank Sinatra, is getting on the nerves of a pipe-puffing parrot, who speaks like Bing Crosby. The parrot spots Sylvester, foraging through the trash. Telling the cat he needs more vitamins, he lures the cat inside to snare the canary. The straightforward approach fails. He carves a female canary from soap, lures Frankie there; the birds slide down a greased counter, into the sink, and down the drain, but only the soap bird goes through the pipe and down Sylvester’s throat. A trail of birdseed into the garage seems to work, but Frankie jacks Sylvester’s mouth open. Sylvester laces the vitamins with buckshot; like all cartoon magnets, his attracts everything metal in sight except his prey. The canary turns Sylvester’s vacuum cleaner against him, with a crash in the fireplace giving Sylvester a hot-stomach; as he buries his head in the sink, the bird adds Foamo-Seltzer to the water; the cat rockets off, crashing into a wall. The cat finally realizes the portly parrot is a better meal; we see him sitting on the parrot’s perch, imitating his mannerisms.
